


Night and Day

by Ameriphobia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, FACE Family, M/M, Supernatural Creatures, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameriphobia/pseuds/Ameriphobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Francis are embarrassingly tame vampire husbands living in a little cottage in the woods. Alfred and Matthew are eighteen-year-old orphans whose parents were killed by vampires when they were children...and Alfred is obsessed with hunting vamps. Basically,  a FACE Family vampire AU. EDIT: this is discontinued! Sorry :(</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I'm just playing around with something different, I've had this idea for a while but just decided to write it to help me get out of a writing funk. The chapters will be shorter than I'm used to (although probably not all as short as this first one), because I'm still working on La Vie Boheme, but...hopefully there is some demand for weird domestic FACE family vampire stories. Thanks for reading!!

“Where have you been?”

Alfred froze, only halfway through the door, and just taking in the flicker of the television that meant his brother was still awake. Fuck.

Matthew didn’t look at Alfred, even as his twin stepped into the apartment, and so Alfred’s look of what he had hoped would be sympathy-inducing guilt went entirely unnoticed. Instead, Matthew kept his  
eyes fixated on his video game, the cold, flat tone of his voice making Alfred more nervous than if his brother had been screaming at him. Everyone who knew Matt knew that he was one of the nicest guys around, but Alfred knew that he could be downright scary when he wanted to be. Alfred’s senses were telling him that he was seriously about to get it.

“Well?” Matthew pressed, tone still unnervingly devoid of inflection. He pressed down hard on the controls, and an animated zombie fell to the ground on the screen. Alfred swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I was, um…” Alfred said, slowly making his way over to the couch, “I was on a date.”

“A date.”

“Yes, Matthew, a date,” Alfred repeated, trying to sound as offended as possible, “You don’t have to sound so surprised.” 

“Who were you on a date with?” Matthew pressed, eyes not even flickering to Alfred once.

“A…a girl.”

Finally, Matthew turned to his brother, his character being brutally murdered by zombies on the screen as he stopped paying the game any attention. “Wow,” he said simply, and the sudden spike of angry energy from his brother made Alfred miss the fake passiveness of a moment before, “You know Al, if you’re going to lie to me, you could at least put some effort into it.”

Alfred took a deep breath. “Look, Matt, I totally get why you’re angry, but if you’d just-”

“How can you keep doing this to me, Alfred?” Matthew groaned, burying his face in his hands to show the extent of his stress. “You promised.”

“I’m sorry,” Alfred said. He didn’t have to try to make the apology sound genuine; the distress in his only remaining blood-relative’s eyes was causing Alfred’s gut to twist unpleasantly with remorse. 

Matthew removed his face from his hands, meeting Alfred’s eyes with a haggard expression. “If you cared about my wellbeing at all, you wouldn’t be sneaking out every night. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I won’t,” Alfred said, straightening his posture at the perceived blow to his pride, “I know what I’m doing, Mattie! I’ve been doing some reading and-”

“And what? You’ve found the comprehensive step-by-step guide to vampire slaying?”

“Well, not exactly, but-”

“God, could you be more full of yourself?” Matthew wondered, getting up from his seat on the couch to pace the room in agitation, “Do you seriously think that if you actually found one, you’d be able to do anything? After seeing what- what happened to our parents….” Matthew turned away, hands going to his eyes in a way that Alfred knew meant he was trying to hide his tears. Shit.

“Mattie,” Alfred said gently, going over to somewhat awkwardly place a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m doing this. So more kids don’t end up like us. There’s stuff out there, and it’s like no one else knows about it. I have to do something.”

“I know,” Matthew said, blinking rapidly, “I know, Al. But…you’re the only family I have.” He looked away from Alfred, shying away from the seriousness of the conversation. Despite all they had been through together, the twins still sometimes struggled with sharing their feelings. It was always easier, especially when things were the most rough, to hide behind jokes and petty arguments. But this time, Alfred could tell that he had pushed his brother too far.

Alfred drew Matthew into a hug. “Mattie….” He said quietly, unsure of what else he could do to console him, and for a moment they let the silence hang in the air. When the moment ended, it was Matthew who pulled away, meeting his brother’s eyes with steely resolve.

“If you really feel like you have to do this,” he said, “Then I’m coming with you.”

Alfred’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? No, you can’t!”

Matthew laughed, a little coldly, and aimed a light punch at his brother’s arm. “Hypocrite,” he chastised, “Now you know how I feel.” The look in Matthew’s eyes became sad once again, and Alfred sighed, knowing that there was no way to dig himself out of this one.

“Fine,” he said, after a moment’s silent hesitation, “I won’t do it anymore, okay? Just…stop making that face.”

Matthew raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Really?”

“Yeah…I mean, you’re right. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I did find one. I was being stupid.”

“Good,” Matthew said, and Alfred could tell that he was relishing the moment of being told that he was right. He still looked mildly suspicious though, and he raised his right hand towards Alfred, pinky extended in offering. “Promise?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, hooking his pinky with Matthew’s. 

Matthew seemed satisfied after that, both of them knowing the sacredness of pinky swears. He went back to the couch, plopping down into the cushions and picking up his controller. “Wanna play?” he  
said, holding the controls out to him like a peace offering.

Alfred smiled as genuinely as he could manage. “Sure.”

But Matthew must have noticed that the smile didn’t meet his eyes, because he bumped his shoulder into his brother’s playfully. “Hey,” he said, “Fucking vampires, right?”

“Yeah,” Alfred said, gritting his teeth as he blasted the head off of a zombie on the screen.

“Fucking vampires.”

~

“Love?” Arthur called, not looking up from the kitchen table scattered with papers. The kitchen was dimly lit, heavy curtains allowing all but the ambient glow of the sun peeking past its edges into the small cottage. Arthur stifled a yawn.

Francis appeared smoothly at the door to the kitchen. “Yes?” 

“Did you spend,” Arthur squinted at the document in his hand, as if making sure that he was seeing correctly, “One hundred and twenty dollars on our MasterCard at a salon last week?”

“Ah,” Francis said, shrinking back a little like a frightened cat, “Yes, that was me….”

Arthur didn’t say anything, simply looking up at his husband with his eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation.

“My nails were terrible!” Francis blurted, “I found this place, and you know how hard it is to find ones that are open late enough...” Francis quickly lost steam at the annoyed look on Arthur’s face.

Arthur sighed. “It’s fine. Just tell me next time, so this doesn’t happen.”

“Okay,” Francis said. Arthur frowned, noting that Francis was still pouting, not seeming as relieved as he should be by being let off the hook. 

“What is it?” Arthur asked, recognizing Francis’ expression well.

“It is nothing,” Francis said, examining his manicured nails, “I am just a little insulted that you didn’t notice them until now.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but stood, going over to stand with Francis. He took his hand, lifting it to his eyes to examine his husband’s French tips. “They look lovely,” he said, giving the hand a gentle kiss.  
Francis laughed lightly at the action, and Arthur snorted as well. He went to walk back to the table, but another large yawn interrupted him.

“Time for bed,” Francis declared, eyes flickering to the bright sunlight leaking from behind the curtains. “Arthur, it is nearly ten in the morning.”

“Already?” Arthur sent a lingering, regretful look towards his checkbook. “Alright then. I guess this can wait until tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Francis agreed, wrapping his arms around Arthur from behind. When Francis pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, Arthur couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter closed, and allow a soft sigh to escape his lips. “We have more important things to do.”

Arthur groaned, “Stop it, you monster. We both need to get some sleep.”

“Fine,” Francis huffed, “But can we at least kiss for a little bit?”

Arthur paused for a moment, pretending to be thinking it over. “Um…Yes.”

Francis grinned, his slightly pointed canines sparkling just a little in the low light of the kitchen, before nearly sprinting off to their bedroom. Arthur fought back a smile, reveling in how their relationship could still feel this exciting and new after so many years.

Yes, a lot had certainly happened in the last two centuries, but the years had at least proven to Arthur and Francis that they could get through anything together. 

It was with this thought, and another long yawn, that Arthur went to join his husband in the bedroom.

~

Alfred’s heart hammered as he rummaged around his and Matthew’s bedroom, his ears straining to pick up on even the slightest hint that his brother was awake. But Matthew was tired from work on top of some college classes, and the mound of blankets in the bed next to his own was as still as…well, an actual pile of blankets.

Alfred turned away from his sleeping brother, the sick feeling of guilt beginning to stir in his stomach. He knew what it would do to Matthew if something were to happen to him. They had lost their parents when they were kids, and even now that they were legally adults, and free to go off and live individual lives, they still chose to stay together, to take care of and support each other. Matthew was the only family that Alfred had, and Alfred was the same to Matthew.

Alfred knew that what he was doing was selfish, and reckless. He knew that…and yet, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that what happened to their family could be happening to anyone. Not when he could do something about it. 

Before Alfred left the bedroom, his secret backpack of supplies slung around his shoulder, he stopped to turn back to his brother, mentally sending him a pointless, silent apology.

'I'm sorry, Mattie'.

~

The early October breeze raised goosebumps on Alfred’s skin. He was in the woods outside of town, the place where he usually went in search of anything sinister and supernatural. The forest itself wasn’t particularly threatening- it was difficult to be too far away from the roads, and the trees were pretty sparse, with little hiking trails running throughout for people to enjoy this bit of nature. But that was in the daylight. That was for people who didn’t know the things that Alfred knew.

He adjusted his night-vision goggles, a world of green, black and white coming into remarkably clear focus before his eyes. Sophisticated gadgets like these probably weren’t what Alfred should have been spending his paychecks on, but he wasn’t taking classes like Matthew, preferring to devote his time, money, and brainpower to fighting dirty rotten vampires.

Not that Alfred had actually seen any vampires since the night their parents had died. But he knew that they were out there.

A little ways away, an owl was letting out the occasional ‘coo’, and the wind rustled the leaves of the trees, but other than this, the night was perfectly still. The branched above him parted enough for a moment that he could see the bright light of a brilliantly full autumn moon. For a moment, Alfred simply gazed upwards, the light calming him.

After a few moments, however, Alfred prickling feeling start on the back of his neck and travel down his spine, deep into the pits of his stomach. All of his muscles felt tense. He found that he could hardly move because of a sudden sense of dread.

Behind him, out of the dark and the silence, something began to growl lowly at him.

Alfred took a deep breath, eyes closing briefly as he gathered his courage, before turning around slowly and quietly. 

Something was rustling in the bushes. Alfred reached, hands trembling, for the wooden stake attached to his belt.

This movement must have triggered something in the creature that was stalking him, because, with a sudden, snarling growl that made Alfred’s entire body flash cold with terror, it leapt from the bushes. 

Alfred brandished his weapon in defense, but it didn’t do him much good, as the weight of the enormous creature hit him forcefully, slamming him down onto the forest floor. His heart was beating faster than he had thought possible as he struggled to get out from under the beast, which was had the characteristics of a wolf, but was at least three times the size. A werewolf.

But Alfred could barely focus enough to realize this, because the creature was writhing on top of him, tearing into his flesh with teeth and claws and causing parts of his body to already feel warm and damp with his own blood. Too filled with adrenaline to register the pain, Alfred thrashed around wildly, attempting to get a jab to the wolf’s exposed torso with his stake.

After a few seconds that felt like hours, Alfred succeeded, and the creature jumped off of his body with a cry. Alfred stood quickly, prepared to run while it was dazed from the jab to its ribs, but the wolf was on him again almost immediately, pouncing and sending him flying back to the ground.

Finally finding his voice, the reality of the situation beginning to dawn on him through his shock, Alfred screamed.

The wolf didn’t waste any time, and soon Alfred felt sharp, crushing pain in his neck as he was bitten. Alfred immediately began to feel himself losing consciousness, thoughts becoming hazy and vision fading.

'I’m going to die', he managed to think through the fog. 'Oh god. Matthew….'

But suddenly, Alfred could no longer feel the weight of the wolf on top of him, or the sting of its claws pinning him to the dirt below. He assumed he was just becoming less aware, that he was slipping further into the darkness, but then a voice from close by reached him.

“Oh my god.”

Moments later, Alfred could feel cold hands touching him, gentle and tentative, and hear the breathing of another person. But Alfred’s mind was too far gone to do anything more than simply accept these facts.

He was slipping quickly, and whatever the person with him was saying, he couldn’t understand. Suddenly, Alfred felt a feeling of comfort wash over him. Any remaining pain from his injuries faded away, and he felt like he was being wrapped in a soft blanket, like he was being held in his mother’s warm arms.

Alfred sighed, before all thoughts and feelings finally left him.

~

“Christ,” Arthur muttered, shaking his head at the dimmed computer screen in front of him, “They’ll let anyone become an author these days, won’t they?”

It wasn’t always easy for vampires to find sufficient employment that would work with their schedule. There were always night owl shifts at certain places, but they were often at jobs that one could get rather sick of after a certain amount of years. For his part, Arthur preferred the path of self-employment, and had been doing freelance editing work for god even knows how long.  
Francis, on the other hand, liked to jump around from job to job, although his current gig as a bartender had lasted an unusually long time. Arthur knew that he liked to make a flashy show of himself, and to make small talk with the customers.

It also meant that for several hours a night, Arthur was alone, and could do his own work without any Francis-like distractions…although Arthur had secretly yet to work out whether that was actually a good thing or not.

Arthur was squinting at a particularly troubling sentence when he heard something out in the woods that made him look up curiously. Living in a cottage in the middle of the forest made transportation slightly difficult for the two of them, but having neighbors tended to make things a little…messy. Coworkers tended not to notice if you stayed the same physically no matter how much time went by, especially if you moved frequently between jobs, but neighbors usually noticed something weird as time went on.

Arthur strained his ears to see if he could hear the peculiar sound again. He was beginning to think that he’d imagined it when a louder, more alarming sound hit his ears, clear as day.

Arthur shuddered at the sound of the terrible scream.

“Shit,” he breathed, knowing the sound of someone in serious trouble when he heard it. His thoughts raced- what if it was Francis out there, coming home from work? Arthur knew that there were terrible things in forests, things that even vampires couldn’t hold their own against. This thought, however irrational, was enough to prompt Arthur into action, getting out of his desk chair and sprinting out the door with supernatural speed.

It was a bright, clear night, the full moon outshining the stars and leaving the rest of the sky empty and glowing with moonlight. Arthur squinted his eyes as a human would when exposed to the blazing sun.

The cry had come from close by, and it took Arthur only seconds to reach its source. Still, by the time he was standing at the scene, panting, whatever creature had caused the trouble had vanished into the dark trees, most likely scared away by the smell of vampire. What remained lying on the dirt, however, made Arthur’s stomach twist. 

“Oh my god,” he said.

The boy lying in front of him was unmoving, limbs lying at awkward angles. When Arthur bent down slowly to get a closer look, he could see that there were deep claw marks all over his body, his clothes torn nearly to rags. Arthur breathed in harshly at the sight of the boy’s torn neck, the smell of human blood hitting him hard. 

Arthur swallowed, glancing over his shoulder as if he would find something to help him in the now quiet forest. “Shit,” he whispered, “What the hell were you even doing out here?” 

The boy was still alive. Arthur could tell- he could hear the sound of his heartbeat, could sense the pulse of blood moving weakly through his veins. Instinctively, Arthur’s hand flickered towards the cell phone in his pocket, but he knew beyond doubt that an ambulance would never make it in time. The boy was a goner.

A soft sound came from the boy’s mouth, just the barest hint of a groan, and caused Arthur to jump a little. His gaze lingered for a moment on his face- his eyes were closed peacefully now, the rise and fall of his chest becoming all but imperceptible. A light wind blew past them, blowing the dark blond hairs on the boy’s forehead. So young.

All at once, Arthur found that he couldn’t think straight, his mind going blank with the exception of one thought.

He had to save this boy.

“Shh,” Arthur said, although the boy had long stopped making any sort of noise. Arthur reached out, hands trembling, and ran his finger’s thought the boy’s hair, “Shh, it’s alright. It’s going to be alright.”

Arthur closed his eyes, hand still resting gently on the boy’s head. Taking a deep breath, he willed him to feel calm and comforted, although he wasn’t entirely sure if the boy could feel it at this point. 

After that, Arthur stopped thinking entirely. He simply let his instincts do the rest.

~

“F-Francis?”

“Arthur? Are you alright? Where are you?”

Arthur was numb to the panicked voice of his husband in ear. Tears were streaming down his pale face, his hand rubbing circles into the boy’s shoulder. The boy whose wounds were healing, whose breath was evening, whose heartbeat was steadying right before his eyes.

“Arthur, please, talk to me. Are you okay?”

“I…” Arthur tried to stifle a sob, but he knew that Francis could hear it anyway, “I did something…oh god, Francis, I’m in so much trouble….”

“What is it, Arthur?” Francis sounded like he might be crying too now, if only from fear for his husband.

Arthur took a deep breath, unable to tear his eyes away from the sleeping face below him.

“I changed someone.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! So this fic is going to have a lot more characters and pairings (eventually) than just FACE, but I think that I may just tag them as they show up to give some illusion of surprise, unless anyone would really rather know beforehand. But yeah, it's going to be more than just the four of them, even though they're the focus of the story. 
> 
> I also just want to say that when it comes to vampire stuff (like habits and anatomy and all that) I'm just completely making it up to suit my own selfish needs, with no research into actual lore whatsoever. So I hope you don't mind my weird vamps.
> 
> And of course, thank you so much for your support! I appreciate your comments and kudos so so much. Thank you!!! And I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

“Arthur?” Francis called into the cool night, his sense of reason too far gone with panic to care about what his yelling may attract. In any case, they lived in a tame, suburban forest, and Francis was sure that nothing living there would even think of approaching one of his kind.

Well…almost nothing, anyway.

Francis swallowed. Arthur had told him over the phone that he was only a few seconds’ run from their cabin, just south of one of the trails, and yet Francis could see nothing in his vicinity but the trees around him and the earth beneath him. The moon was bright and full, and the glare was beginning to cause Francis’s sensitive eyes to strain.

“Arthur!” He shouted again, more desperation in his voice this time. His keen eyes scanned the forest around him frantically, before something on the ground in front of him made him stop short, breath hitching in his throat.

Below him, the forest floor appeared disturbed, with piles of leaves and dirt overturned and pushed into unnatural piles, a patch of ground left barren in their wake. When Francis looked closely, he could see faint traces of blood drying into the circle.

Heart pounding, Francis’s eyes followed the disturbance, seeing that it continued on in front of him, carving a path into-

“Francis!”

The breath that Francis had been holding escaped him all at once at the sound of his husband’s voice, as weak and as frightened as it sounded. Without pause, Francis dashed toward the sound, going around a thick patch of briers to see what lay beyond.

Arthur was staring up at him from the forest floor, eyes wide and red from crying. He was sitting hunched over someone, his body blocking the stranger’s face from Francis’s view. Francis felt a shock run through him, cold and electric. So it was true.

“Francis,” Arthur said, and the uncharacteristic smallness in his voice jarred Francis out of his daze. Melting at the sight of his frightened husband, he dropped to the ground beside Arthur, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“I’m s-sorry,” Arthur wept into his shoulder, “It’s like I stopped thinking…he’s, he’s so young, and I just, I couldn’t-”

“Shh,” Francis soothed, rubbing circles into Arthur’s back, “It is going to be alright.”

“I was trying to bring him to the house,” Arthur said, pulling away from Francis’s embrace, “I should be able to, but I’m just so tired….”

“That is normal,” Francis assured, recalling the strain of creating new vampires. Now that he was sitting beside Arthur, he could see the face of the boy lying beside him. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, the only movement on his face caused by gentle stirrings of wind moving his thin blond hair. Arthur was right; he looked like he was barely an adult, if that. Francis tried to swallow down his emerging sense of panic, knowing that he had to hold himself together now, for Arthur’s sake. 

“I will carry him,” Francis said, and Arthur nodded. But when he reached down to get his arms under the boy’s body, he found that Arthur had lain his arms across his sleeping form, impeding Francis from being able to lift him. When Francis raised an eyebrow at his husband, Arthur started, seeming surprised by his own actions.

“S-sorry,” Arthur muttered, quickly withdrawing his hands.

“Also normal,” Francis said, trying not to feel hurt by Arthur’s momentary lack of trust. He knew that it was all just instinct, the attachment, the protectiveness…and instinct was often a difficult force to overcome. 

Francis stood, grunting a little with the weight of the boy, although he was still lighter to him than if he was fully changed yet. Arthur stood as well, legs shaking from residual shock and fatigue. When   
Francis looked over to Arthur to make sure that he was alright, he found himself staring into green eyes still swimming with fear and shame.

“Arthur,” Francis said firmly, “It is going to be alright. We will figure something out; I promise. Right now, we just have to focus on taking care of this boy.”

“Alfred,” Arthur said suddenly, surprising Francis. Noticing his husband’s confusion, Arthur bent down, picking up a torn and dirty navy blue backpack. “That’s his name; Alfred Jones. He’s eighteen. Look,   
it’s got buttons all over it. I think he likes superheroes….”

Francis paused, fixing Arthur with a curious stare. “We should get moving,” he said after a moment, shifting the boy, Alfred, in his arms, and turning in the direction of their house. 

Arthur nodded, and they began the short walk home. The whole way there, Arthur remained close to Francis, walking by Alfred’s head. There were a few times that his gaze was so fixated on Alfred that he stumbled on a root or a large rock, just barely managing to catch himself and return his focus to where he was walking.

Francis sighed in relief at the sight of their comfortable little cottage, the familiar place bringing forth a reassuring feeling of normality. When he had maneuvered his way onto the front porch, Arthur dashed in front of him to hold open the door.

“We can put him on the guest bed,” Arthur said hurriedly, and Francis nodded, carrying Alfred into the unused second bedroom that they kept taken care of for the friends who would very occasionally (and usually without warning) stop by to visit them. 

Arthur was sitting on the side of the bed before Francis could even finish gently placing Alfred on top of the plush comforter. In the sudden moment of quiet that followed, Francis could get a better look at his husband than he had in the forest. Arthur was staring down at the unconscious boy beside him with a mix of fear and wonder, a kind of feral energy seeming to radiate from him despite his evident exhaustion. Seeing his expression, Francis felt the sudden pang of an old emotion, an aching feeling deep within his gut. 

“You should get some sleep,” Francis said gently, sitting beside Arthur and placing a hand over his.

Arthur shook his head, eyes never leaving Alfred’s face. “I think I’ll stay with him a while longer. Just in case he needs me.” 

Francis sighed. He wanted to drag Arthur to bed so that he could get the rest he so badly needed, he wanted to tell him that Alfred would probably be unconscious for another fifteen hours, at least, while his body finished changing, and that there was no way that he would need him until then- but by look in Arthur’s eyes, he already knew that it would get him nowhere. So he just squeezed Arthur’s hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, mon couer. Let me know if you need anything.”

Arthur nodded distractedly, and Francis stood, stepping quietly out of the room. Before he left, he sent one last quick look at his husband, who had begun running his hand soothingly over Alfred’s hair, likely not even aware of what he was doing.

Despite everything, Francis couldn’t help but let out a little smile.

~

“Francis.”

“Mnnhh?”

“Oh, come on you lazy arse. Wake up.”

“Mmm…qu'est-ce qui se passe….” 

Francis blinked open his eyes, pulling himself slowly into the waking world. When he had come to his senses, he saw that Arthur was staring down over him, bags under his eyes and a troubled expression on his face. “What is it?” Francis said, sitting up. The memories of last night were coming back to him quickly, throwing him into alertness.

“His phone,” Arthur hissed, holding the offending object out for Francis to see, “The bloody thing, it won’t stop ringing. I don’t know what to do.” 

Almost immediately after Arthur had finished speaking, the cell phone began to buzz, the screen lighting up with a name. Taking the phone from his husband’s hand, Francis could see the word ‘bro’ identifying the caller.

Francis sighed heavily. “Well, you cannot answer it,” he said, “It is Alfred’s decision whether he wants his family to know or not.”

“I know,” Arthur said, but he continued to gaze at the phone with a pained expression. “It’s just that it’s rung so many times now. You’d think he would give up.”

“He must be very worried,” said Francis sadly.

“No calls from parents yet, though….”

Francis shrugged. “Perhaps he lives at a college nearby. They may not have any way to know that he is missing.”

“Oh god, stop,” Arthur groaned, “I feel sick. This is so horrible.”

Francis studied the misery in Arthur’s face, and drew him in with his arms, guiding him to sit on the side of the bed. “He would have died if it was not for you, Arthur,” he said, reaching up to cup Arthur’s face with one of his hands.

“Maybe he would rather be dead,” Arthur all but whispered, tears beginning to gather underneath his green eyes. 

Francis crumbled, pulling Arthur into a tight hug. “Oh, Arthur. Do you really think that our lives are such a curse?” When Arthur pulled away, shaking his head, Francis brushed a few escaped tears from his husband’s cheeks. A sob escaped Arthur, and he leaned forward to rest his head on Francis’s shoulder.

“If it means anything,” Francis said quietly as he pet Arthur’s blond hair, “I think that you did the right thing.”

Arthur sobbed again, pulling back to give Francis a weak punch on his shoulder. “You idiot. Of course it means something.”

Francis smiled. A moment later, the phone, which had been forgotten on the bed, began to buzz again. Arthur and Francis both stared at it until it stopped, this time with a new message on the screen.

“A voicemail,” Francis said, “Arthur, don’t-”

But it was too late- Arthur had already clicked on the message, as if he couldn’t stop himself. He raised the phone to his ear, and Francis, with an agitated sigh, leaned over so that he could listen as well.

A quiet voice came through the speaker. “Alfred?” it said. It was hard to tell over the phone, but it sounded like the word was constricted by tears. “I-I don’t know if you’ll get this but. I’ve been calling for a while now and, you’re not picking up…and I’m kind of freaking out right now, so, if you get this, just…please call me back, or something, just, please let me know you’re okay. I promise, I’m not even mad that you snuck out anymore. I just,” the voice paused, and the faint sound of crying could just barely be heard, as if the person was turning away from the phone to try and hide his sobs, “I need you to be   
okay. I…I love you. Bye.”

The message ended, leaving Arthur and Francis sitting in a stunned, horrified silence. Francis was the first to break it.

“Call him.”

“What? But you said-” 

“Well, that was before you made me listen to that!”

“Right,” Arthur said, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “Yes, I have to call him, don’t I?”

“Just do it! So that I can stop hearing that sad voice in my head. It is bad for my heart, Arthur.”

“Alright, alright, I’m doing it.” Arthur stared at the cell phone intently, as if willing it to make the call of its own accord.

“What are you waiting for?” Francis exploded after several moments.

“Right, right, sorry,” Arthur mumbled, pressing his thumb to the phone decisively. “I’m just nervous….”

“I am surprised you even know how to use those kind of phones,” Francis said quietly, only to have Arthur shush him as the phone began to ring. Not surprisingly, it barely got through the first ring before being answered.

“Alfred?” came the same quiet voice from the message, breathless with relief, “Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me, are you okay? I’m going to kill you-”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he said, hating the way voice on on the other end of the line fell immediately quiet at the sound of an unfamiliar person, the way he could practically feel the boy’s   
disappointment and fear radiating through the silence. “This, well, this isn’t Alfred but, we um, we have him.”

A moment of silence followed before the boy spoke, tone now becoming low and suspicious. “What do you want?” 

“What?” Arthur said, taken aback by the question. Beside him, Francis rolled his eyes, snatching the phone out of his hand with ease.

“Hello, my name is Francis Bonnefoy,” Francis said into the phone, sixteen layers of charm worked into each word, “I am sorry if Arthur scared you. Would you mind if I asked what you name is?”  
Arthur crossed his arms, glaring at his husband, but Francis was too busy waiting for a reply to pay attention to him. 

“…Matthew,” the boy on the other end said tentatively.

“Hello, Matthew. And I’m assuming that you are Alfred’s...”

“I’m his brother,” Matthew said. He still sounded tense and suspicious, and Francis struggled with how he could reassure the poor boy that everything was alright. Well, in some definitions, at least.

“Alfred is just fine,” Francis assured him, “Arthur and I live out in the woods, and we stumbled across him. He had just taken a little fall and hurt his ankle, so we let him rest here for the night.”

“Can I talk to him?” Matthew asked, an undercurrent of forcefulness in his tone. Francis was beginning to wonder if calling the boy had been a mistake- it was becoming more and more obvious that he certainly wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Ah, well…he is still asleep, and I do not think that-”

“Fine,” Matthew said coldly, surprising Francis, “Just tell me where you live. I’ll come and get him.”

“O-oh! Okay, well, it’s just a little bit off of the trail by Cedar Drive. Do you know where-”

“I know where it is.”

Francis took a deep breath. “Alright, Matthew. We will see you soon.”

The line went dead.

Arthur frowned. “I swear you could convince a fish to jump out of the water and kiss you on the mouth if you tried hard enough,” he said, obviously trying his hardest to make it sound like an insult. 

“At least I did not sound like a kidnapper asking for ransom,” Francis teased, but then sighed. “I do not think that he was very convinced, though.”

“But he’s still going to come.”

“I am sure of it.” Francis looked around the room. “Maybe we should try to make the house look more normal.”

Arthur raised one of his large eyebrows, eyes gliding around the bedroom, with its white sheets, bookshelf, and cluttered bedside table. “Right. I’ll just go throw my coffin in the basement, then….”

Francis gave him a withering look. “It is nice to know that you are feeling like yourself again enough to be sarcastic, mon chere. But really, I think that we should probably open at least some of the curtains.”

Arthur groaned in anticipation of the pain of full sunlight in his eyes. “Fine, do whatever you have to. I’m going to go check on Alfred.” Arthur left the room, and Francis couldn’t help but smile a bit at the way he said Alfred’s name, as if he already knew him even though they had never spoken. He could only hope that his brother would at least hear them out about the situation, but what human would believe them? 

After all, it wasn’t like Alfred and Matthew could know anything about vampires….

~

Matthew gritted his teeth subconsciously as he hung up the phone, the flash of emboldening anger that he had felt during the conversation quickly beginning to drain into fear. Matthew’s body had gone cold the instant that he had heard the voice of someone other than Alfred coming through the speaker. There was something inside of him that knew, beyond any shred of doubt, that something was terribly, dangerously wrong. He felt it in his tired eyes, in the nervous ache in the pit of his stomach, in the walls of the silent, empty apartment.   
Alfred was in serious trouble.

Matthew’s hands shook as he made an even bigger mess of their apartment than it already was, rummaging through drawers and peeking under furniture, desperately looking for anything of Alfred’s that might be useful to him, because while he was about 99.7 percent certain that he was walking directly into a trap, he sure as hell wasn’t letting anyone or anything have his brother without a fight.

“Damn it, Alfred,” Matthew whined into the empty space as he tossed the cushions off of their ratty couch, “You know I never wanted to do any of this stuff! I’m not meant for hunting vampires, or anything   
like that, but now look. You’ve gone and gotten me dragged into it.” He fought back tears again, something about speaking to an imaginary Alfred who would never respond to him making him feel even   
more alone. Alfred had always been by his side, through all of the best and worst times of his life. And now, when Matthew was more scared than he had ever been…he was alone.

Snap out of it, he thought to himself, you can’t fall apart now. Alfred got himself into this mess, but you’re going to get him out of it. Matthew refused to even consider that Alfred was already past the point of saving. It was unthinkable.

Matthew made a noise of frustration, as it was becoming increasingly obvious that whatever supplies Alfred had, he had taken with him. That left Matthew with only one option, and it was one that he had promised to himself that he would never resort to.

Matthew ran into the bedroom, and found himself facing the box hidden away in his closet with unease. Then, taking a deep, grounding breath, he lifted the lid. Inside was a 22 long rifle handgun.

Matthew had been furious when Alfred had given him the pistol for their eighteenth birthday for his ‘protection’, and had locked it away, swearing that he would never touch it. Now it looked like he was going to break his promise. Matthew didn’t know if guns were effective against the supernatural, but he supposed it was probably better than going in empty-handed.

Fighting back all of his hesitations at once, Matthew snatched the gun out of its case. He stuck it inside his jacket and headed for the door.

He was going to get his brother back.

~

Matthew knew these woods. 

Ever since he was a little kid, he had always been enamored with wildlife- while they were still alive, he would always beg his parents to take them hiking, to bring them on camping trips, to let him be as close to nature as often as he could. After they died, Matthew found solace in learning about the world and its many creatures, taking book after book out of the library, and running around on these same trails after school, searching for frogs and rodents and insects. The forest had always been a place where Matthew felt safe, where he could content himself in thinking about the simple and complicated world beyond the lives of humans.

These woods seemed foreign to him today.  
It didn’t take Matthew very long to travel down the path that he had been instructed to take, nor was it difficult to find the little cottage surrounded by rosebushes (as if they really thought that this would make a house in the middle of the forest seem less suspicious) just a few minutes’ walk off of the path. It did, however, take Matthew a little bit of time to gather his courage enough to go up to the front door.

He was surprised to find that the door was unlocked, and he nudged it open gently, thinking that he could perhaps get the upper hand if he were to sneak up on whatever was inside. On the other hand, they may have left the door open just to lure him inside and attack. 

Matthew swallowed thickly at this thought, his heart heavy and thrumming in his chest, but forced himself to step over the threshold.

As soon as he was inside the house, Matthew braced himself, half-expecting to be jumped at any second…but all he was met with was an empty living space, with normal furniture and artwork on the walls.   
Matthew relaxed slightly, but became ridged again at the sound of muffled voices coming from a short hallway to his left. Thinking of Alfred, he forced his legs to carry him to the door where the voices were coming from. Matthew’s fingers twitched towards where his gun was concealed, but never quite found their destination, and he let his hand fall back to his side. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to go in with a weapon drawn, but there was something inside of him that was more frightened of the slim possibility of pointing a gun at an innocent person who had aided his stupid brother than the possibility of being murdered by hungry vampires.

Matthew shook his head at himself. He really wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing.

He pressed his hand to the doorknob, turning it quietly. As he swung the door open, he held his breath, bracing himself for the inevitable horrors that he would find on the other side.

“Oh, hello.”

Matthew froze, suddenly finding two pairs of unfamiliar eyes immediately on him. One man was standing up, near enough to the door and Matthew that he bristled with alarm, and the other seated on the side of a queen-sized bed. But neither of them could keep his focus for long once Matthew took in the sight of his brother lying motionless under the covers.

The man standing in front of him took a step forward, smiling warmly at him, “We heard you come in-”

“I knew it.” Matthew spat suddenly, finding his voice as he stared in horror at Alfred’s unmoving body.

The man on the bed tensed, seeming to almost shift slightly closer to Alfred on the bed. The one near Matthew quickly lost his smile. “Matthew,” he said calmly, “I know this may be difficult, but if you could just-”

But before the man could get another word out, his eyes widened, finding himself staring down the barrel of Matthew’s pistol. 

“Shut up!” Matthew screamed, hands trembling violently as they pointed the gun at the man’s face, “D-don’t call me my name! Don’t act like you didn’t just get me here to k-kill me too!”

“Hey!” the man on the bed finally spoke up, unnaturally bright green eyes flashing with anger. He moved to get up, but Matthew quickly moved to point his weapon at him. 

“Don’t move!” he ordered, surprised by the authority in his own voice. 

The man moved slowly back into his seated position. He was giving Matthew a cool, level stare that made Matthew feel suddenly silly and powerless, like a child being scolded by his parent. “Put that down, lad,” he said calmly, “You can’t shoot both of us at the same time.”

He was right. He was outnumbered, and every time he directed his weapon at one of the men, it left another open to take care of him. Tears began to run down Matthew’s face as the reality of his predicament hit him in full, and he let his arm fall to his side, the gun dropping gently to the floor as it slipped from his fingers. 

“It wouldn’t do anything anyway, would it?” he whispered through his tears, “Because you’re vampires, aren’t you? Your kind killed my parents, and…and now you took my brother, too.” Matthew felt his knees grow weak at the realization, and he sank to the floor, sobbing. “You might as well just kill me now.” 

Matthew had his face buried in his arms, no longer finding it in himself to care about what the vampires might do to him, so he couldn’t see what they were doing. But he did hear an uttered, “Oh my god. Fuck,” before feeling a tentative hand on his shoulder. Before he could so much as flinch away, Matthew felt a sudden feeling of comfort wash over is entire body. It was like nothing he had ever felt before- like sinking into warm water and cuddling up in clean sheets and being told that he was loved, all in one, but somehow even more than that. Matthew sighed. His fears dimmed to a gentle pulse in the very back of his mind, and soon he allowed his eyes to flicker open, now glazed over sleepily.

Matthew was met with the face of the man who had been standing nearest to him, the man with blue eyes and long, soft-looking blond hair. But he no longer looked so menacing, and Matthew actually found himself leaning into the touch on his shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” the man said, and Matthew could now recognize that every word was sincere. “Arthur and I…we are what you think. But Alfred isn’t dead. Arthur saved him.”

Matthew began to come down from the cloud of hazy comfort he had just experienced, but instead of returning to his panic and sorrow, he found that he felt calm and clear headed. It was like he was experiencing everything in an entirely new light, one that allowed him to properly make sense of things. As this happened, he realized that the man with green eyes was crouching near him as well, watching him with sad eyes.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, “I didn’t plan on- I mean, I heard Alfred screaming last night. Something had attacked him, and, he would have died if I hadn’t changed him. I’m so sorry….”

“Changed,” Matthew repeated the word, feeling a spark of fear flash up in his chest again, “So he’s…like you now?”

The man cast his eyes downwards. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Matthew gasped out another sudden sob, and the long-haired man squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “He will not be any different, Matthew. I promise. He is still the Alfred that you know.”

Matthew allowed his gaze to find the bed again, where his brother was still sleeping peacefully. Suddenly, he stood, walking slowly over to the side of the bed to look down at Alfred’s face. The two men   
stood as well, but kept a fair distance between them to give Matthew his space.

 

“But,” Matthew said, eyes never leaving the pale, sleeping face of his twin, “But he’ll…he’ll need to eat….”

“We don’t do that,” the green eyed man said quickly. “I mean, well, we eat, but not…humans.”

“Why don’t we get you something to drink, Matthew,” the other man suggested, “And you can ask us anything that you would like.”

Matthew took one last, meaningful look at his brother on the bed. A part of him wanted to decline, because of this was just so strange and so fast, and it made him want to run into the woods and never think about any of this again. But the rational corner of his mind knew that he didn’t have a choice. Whether or not this did all turn out to be some elaborate trick- which was seemed pretty unlikely at this point, considering that he had already offered himself to the vampires without a fight- there was no way that he would be able to leave Alfred. He had to figure this out somehow, for him.

“Okay,” he said quietly. As soon as the words left his lips, he was gently escorted out of the bedroom, stealing one last look at Alfred before he left to assure that his brother’s chest was still rising and falling.

~

Matthew looked down at the cup of tea on the table in front of him, watching in a daze as the steam rose and swirled in the cold air of the cottage. He supposed that the temperature made sense, although the availability of tea bags didn’t really seem to. When Matthew had wondered about it, the man with the long hair, Francis, had laughed and told him that even though they never had human visitors,   
Arthur was terrified enough of having an unexpected guest and not being able to offer them a cuppa that he always kept it on hand.

“And it’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Arthur pointed out as he poured boiling water into a mug and set it gently in front of Matthew.

Francis shook his head, a loving smile on his face. “Of course, mon cœur. I do not know how we would have survived without it.” 

Arthur smacked the back of his husband’s head lightly for his sarcasm, before taking a seat next to him at the table. Matthew couldn’t help but notice that even while he interacted with them, Arthur’s eyes seemed to flicker constantly back to the guest bedroom, where Alfred still was resting. Matthew made a mental note to add this to his already impossibly long list of things to ask the two vampires. But the most important question had to come first.

“So…” Matthew said, still staring into his mug and feeli.ng uncomfortable, “You said that you don’t, um…you know….”

“We do not hurt people,” Francis said firmly. The conviction in his tone made Matthew let out a deep breath, relaxing.

“We really don’t need much blood to live,” Arthur explained, although compared to Francis he seemed a bit offhand and distracted, “And there isn’t much difference between human blood and the blood of   
other mammals, really.”

“I know. I’m studying biology,” Matthew said suddenly. It made so much sense; how could he have not thought of it before?

Francis smiled, blue eyes seeming to sparkle in interest. “Oh, so you are in school? Good for you.”

“Yes, so,” Arthur went on, ignoring Francis’ attempts to strike up a conversation about Matthew’s life, “Obviously, if you suddenly decided to live off of other humans, you certainly could.”

Francis looked up to the ceiling in exasperation. “Arthur, honestly-”

“But you don’t, because humans are complex and conscious creatures, and you recognize that it would be wrong. We’re the same. It’s all about choice.”

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am sorry Matthew. Arthur can be very blunt sometimes.”

“No,” Matthew said tentatively, the gears in his head working so fast that it was difficult to find the right words. “That…makes a lot of sense, actually.”

Arthur gave Francis a smug look, to which Francis responded with an annoyed huff. “Well, excuse me if I do not think that cannibalism is a part of a pleasant conversation! As if we have not already scared the poor boy enough.”

He turned his attention back to Matthew, but he was still too lost in thought to pay much attention to the couple’s bickering.

“But if…” he whispered, his gaze distant and unfocused, “If you don’t need human blood to survive, then…then why….” He trailed off, unable to finish his question. It was as if Matthew’s entire world, and everything he had ever been certain about, was being shattered right before his eyes. He was struggling to put the pieces back together in a way that made any sense.

Francis leaned a little bit closer to Matthew, studying him with a caring expression. “Matthew,” he said softly, “We cannot lie to you. There are some very bad vampires out there- ones who think of humans as animals, or who just like to use their strength to harm people. There aren’t many of them anymore, but they are dangerous. But we are not like that.”

From across the table, Arthur’s expression had softened. “I’m so sorry about you parents, Matthew,” he said earnestly.

Matthew nodded, looking down to wipe at his eyes hurriedly. “So,” he said when he had regained his composure, wanting desperately to change the subject, “What was that thing you did to me before? I was freaking out, but then you touched me and I felt…different. Better, I guess.”

Francis suddenly looked a bit sheepish. “Ah, yes, well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “It is just a skill that we have. We can change the way that humans- or, well, any animal really- are feeling.   
Mostly just to calm them down, to make sure that they do not feel any pain…”

Matthew shuddered a little as he processed this, realizing what this particular ‘skill’ must be for. He also felt more than a little violated, knowing that Francis had gone inside his head and altered the way he was feeling. He must have worn his discomfort on his face, because Francis spoke up.

“Of course, we will never do it to you again, without your permission. I should not have done it at all, really. I just didn’t know what else to do. And you looked so upset.”

The look on Francis face was so genuinely ashamed that Matthew felt at least somewhat reassured, but wanted to move the conversation to a less disturbing topic anyway.

“So, um…if you don’t need to eat often, what about staying hydrated? Is it the same, or….”

“We drink water, like you do,” Francis answered.

“Do you sleep?”

“Sort of,” Arthur supplied, “It’s more like just resting, we’re still pretty aware when we do it, and we only need a few hours a day. Well, unless you’re Francis.”

Francis flicked his hair over his shoulder dramatically. “I need my beauty sleep, you know.”

To his surprise, Matthew found himself fighting back a smile. It faded, however, when his thoughts returned to his brother, sleeping like the dead in the other room. “Then why is Alfred like that?” he asked.

“It is nothing to worry about,” Francis assured him, “His body is just changing, and it takes a lot of energy. He should be awake by the end of today.”

Matthew fiddled with the handle of his mug. “…And then what?”

Francis sighed. “Well, the first week or so will be a little different than normal. He will need to eat a lot, but we can take care of that. And he will be less in control of himself. But Arthur is his sire, and as long as he is with him, he should be able to keep him calm.”

Arthur looked a little uncomfortable, and Matthew couldn’t help but feel similarly. This man didn’t even know Alfred- shouldn’t Matthew be the one taking care of him?

“So I guess I can’t really take him home with me, huh?” Matthew asked quietly. 

Francis’s eyes flickered towards his husband, as if asking for him to intervene, but Arthur remained resolutely silent, looking anywhere but at Matthew. Once it became clear that he was on his own, Francis continued, seeming somewhat irritated, “It is Alfred’s choice whether he wants to stay or not. But it is a powerful bond, and, at least for now, he will need us around, especially Arthur, to make sure he does not hurt anyone. Or himself.”

Matthew nodded. Francis must have noticed the dejection on his face, because he added, “Of course, you are welcome to stay with us as well. For as long as you want.”

Arthur’s eyes flickered towards his husband in what looked like a mixture of surprise and irritation that didn’t go unnoticed by Matthew. The atmosphere had become tense, with invisible strings of unspoken conflict seeming to run between all of them like spider webs. And yet, while they all knew that they would have to deal with these things eventually, they also knew without saying that now was not the time. For now, Matthew wasn’t going anywhere until he saw that his brother was alive and well. 

“Matthew,” Francis said pleasantly, finally taking a break from glaring at his husband, “Why don’t you go to the living room and, ah, watch some television or something? Or, Arthur has his own little library with all kinds of books. It would probably be good to relax a little after everything you have been through.”

Matthew looked between the two men, suddenly faced with the strange feeling of a child whose parents were kicking him out of the room so they could argue. “I think I’ll just go be with Alfred. Thanks, though.” He left the kitchen with one last look at the couple, feeling uneasy, but wanting to see his brother more than anything.

Once Matthew had left, Francis and Arthur were left alone in the kitchen, still glaring at one another in a silent argument. 

“Well, that was very rude of you,” Francis said simply, after several moments of heated glaring.

Arthur gaped. “Rude of me?” he hissed, whispering only so that he could maintain the tone of shouting without being heard by Matthew down the hall. “You’re the one who practically invited a random human orphan to come and live with us without even asking me!”

Francis raised his well-groomed eyebrows. “And when exactly did you ask me about Alfred?”

“That’s different. He’s one of us.”

“’One of us’?” Francis’ lip curled upwards in distaste, “Mon Dieu, Arthur, listen to yourself. You sound like one of those vampires who think that humans are like cattle.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Arthur snapped defensively, ears turning red. “Just think about it, Francis. We can’t just have one human coming to live with three vampires! It’s- it’s ridiculous!”

Francis crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. “I don’t see what is so ridiculous about it. What seems ridiculous to me is that you would separate those poor boys from each other just because it is a little unorthodox.”

“He probably doesn’t even want to stay with us,” Arthur muttered, more to himself now than to Francis, “After you used your powers on him? He’s probably terrified.”

“I would not underestimate him. Did he not come here, already knowing what we are? I think that he is very brave.”

Arthur groaned. “Christ, we should never have brought him here.”

“Probably not,” Francis admitted, “But he is here now. And we are just going to have to deal with it.”

Arthur looked off into the distance, a small pout forming on his lips that drew a soft chuckle from his husband at its childishness. Before he could say anything, however, he noticed a change in Arthur’s   
expression; his eyes had slipped out of focus, and his thoughts seemed to be somewhere else.

“Arthur?” Francis nudged his husband, concerned, “What is wrong?”

Arthur blinked suddenly, the clarity returning to his eyes. He looked at Francis, startled, before a muffled yell could be heard from the guest room.

“He’s awake."


End file.
